Beneath Ruby Skies
by Korrallaries
Summary: 'Fire Lady Hosts First 'Airship' Race for Prince's Coronation.' Asami has the chance to put Future Industries back on the map and she isn't going to let anything get in her way. Not Cabbage Corp, not her father, not Future Industries' abysmal public image, and definitely not her stupid, honorable, Fire Prince of an ex boyfriend.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1: An Unexpected Opportunity**

* * *

The race car was beautiful.

A sleek, modern design, it sat low to the ground and sported a state of the art engine, with four shiny exhaust pipes extending down from the hood of the car all the way to the rear. The deep, red paint was interrupted only by criss-crossing black racing stripes that wound and spun towards the back of the car like ribbons dancing in the wind. The color gave it an almost elegant appearance, though it was built with only one thing in mind. Speed.

Too bad the entire front right side of the car was mangled nearly beyond repair, like an ill-tempered armadillo lion had chewed it up and spat it back out. The metal on the hood was peeling back from an impact with some solid object-most likely a wall, other cars didn't leave such clean marks-and the exhaust pipes were cracked and still leaking puffs of steam.

Asami regarded the race car for another moment before sighing and turning away. Behind her stood two men: one aged and withered with a perpetually sour look on his face and the other young and nervous, hopping from one foot to the other like his shoes were on fire. She addressed the former. "What did Koji do this time, bank the turn too fast and flip it over?"

The boy in question threw up his arms before the older man could reply. "It wasn't my fault! I was taking an outside turn and another car rammed me into the side of the racetrack. Totally an illegal move, not like any of the judges would ever admit it."

Asami sighed. Whether he was telling the truth or not, Koji was right about one thing: the judges would never rule an unsportsmanlike conduct call in their favor. The Future Industries racing team simply wasn't popular, not after her father tainted the name with the Equalist agenda. It was why they had virtually no supporters at every race and why they had to resort to letting an overeager eighteen year old boy become their primary racer instead of a seasoned veteran.

Unfortunately that overeager boy was also an impossibly good racer, which made him almost equally impossible to reason with. "I would have won, otherwise," he said, a cocky grin overtaking his face. His companion smacked him loudly upside the head. "Ow! Goro, stop!"

"I'll stop when you win more races than you wreck," the older man replied, crossing wrinkled arms stained in machine oil and grease in front of his blue coveralls. The slightest twitch on the side of his mouth told Asami that the mechanic wasn't actually mad, but Koji hadn't been with them long enough to know that.

She chuckled softly. "He's right, Koji. You have to be more careful." Anticipating his argument before the words left his mouth, she held up a hand to silence him. "I know it's not fair. But, right now, there's nothing we can do about that. We have to play by the rules and they don't. So that means we need to be extra careful and still win." She twisted her mouth into a ruthless smile. "And I know you can beat any of those other drivers in a fair race, so just consider it a challenge, ok?"

"Fine, fine...I guess you're right." Suitably mollified, the younger boy slumped his shoulders and eyed the wrecked car. "Do we have to start fixing it today?"

Asami shot a sideways glance at the race car, whose front looked like a Flame-O Instant Noodles can that had been smashed ruthlessly between two probending earth discs. It would take at least two weeks of labor to fix that. "No use starting today," she said. "I'll survey the damage and we'll start tomorrow."

"Woo-hoo!" Koji's fist pumped the air as he shot up, racing out of the warehouse in record time. "Thanks Asami, I'll see you tomorrow!"

Next to her, the older mechanic chuckled. "I still don't know what you were thinking when you hired him. Talented, but no self control."

"One of these days he'll learn. I hope." The heiress pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration. "All of our other racers quit, and nobody in good standing would even think to race with us. What choice do we have, Goro?"

"Retire on your father's fortune and live in the lap of luxury?" Asami shot him a glare and he grinned, showing off two missing teeth. "Right, forgot who I was talking to. You gonna want me around to look at that thing?"

He half-heartedly waved a hand towards the vehicle like it was a standard Satomobile, not a state of the art racing car. Asami sighed. That was Goro for you; machines were machines, no reason to get too romantic about it.

"No, I should be alright. I won't be too long."

"If you say so," was the curt reply. "Just don't go spending the night here like you did last time you ended up staying here 'not too long.'"

Asami rolled her eyes before grabbing a toolbox off her desk, heading towards the race car. "I'll be fine. Good night, Goro."

"G'night."

She listened to the sound of his retreating footsteps and waited until she heard the door close to approach the car. Setting the toolbox on the ground, she rested both palms on the still-warm hood and lowered her head, letting out a heavy sigh.

Once upon a time, Future Industries was the leader in everything related to automobiles. They built Satomobiles and forklifts and race cars, and each product had its very own warehouse with at least twenty workers to keep production going. The warehouses were easily big enough to move five Satomobiles around, with many more parts stored around the premises on conveyor belts.

Now, they had only two warehouses-one for production and one for research and maintenance. Since her father's arrest, Satomobile production had slowed almost to a stop. They still got a couple of orders now and again, usually from collectors, but they didn't have enough money to keep any development going. Cabbage Corp had quickly overtaken them as the top vehicle manufacturer in the city, even though all their cars were painted in a horrible shade of green!

Their production warehouse now stayed busy mostly with Future Industries Forklifts. Thankfully, they remained the top supplier for such manufacturing equipment-she supposed there was less righteous indignation in buying boring old forklifts. Those orders kept the rest of Future Industries afloat.

Like the tiny research warehouse she was in now, where she spent most of her time. Tinkering with old engines, trying to keep the race cars of Future Industries faster and safer than their competition, even if they had nothing to show for it. Even with the stigma against her family name, Asami loved every minute she spent working on the cars. Her father was a businessman, but she loved to build.

She walked back towards the lone desk in the warehouse and perched on the top, surveying the car from a distance. If she tilted her head to the side and squinted, it didn't look _so _bad...

Oh, who was she kidding? It would take a miracle to return this car to racing condition. It was a good thing she grew up around race cars, since Koji kept her busy fixing the cars he tended to wreck on the racetrack.

Straightening up, she grabbed an elastic out of one of the draws and pulled her hair back, careful to keep the meticulously straightened strands out of her face. Grabbing her toolbox, she marched back towards the car and lifted the hood, assessing the damage there. The motor, thankfully, had taken minimal damage, hopefully leaving her with mostly bodywork to deal with.  
With that thought, she shuffled under the hood of the car to see what she could start fixing today. The low-riding vehicle left her little room to lay comfortably, but that was where being a slimmer girl came in handy. Any other mechanic would need to prop the car up before fitting underneath.

It was in this position-on her back and rolled under the car-where Nobuo found her.

"Miss Sato! Miss Sato!"

Startled, Asami sat up and slammed her head into the underside of the vehicle. Cursing, she pushed out from under the hood so she could give a suitable glare to her most enthusiastic board member.

Well, her only board member. But that wouldn't stop her.

"Miss Sato!" Nobuo was slightly past middle aged-just like her father-and was the only other person besides Goro who had worked at Future Industries longer than she had. He was a kind man, with a penchant for wearing oddly colored brown suits over his rotund midsection and prone to excitement over any sort of things, no matter how silly.

"Yes, Nobuo? What is it?" Nobuo was also the only person who could still get away with calling her Miss Sato; all other employees she insisted call her Asami. Koji had once called her Miss Sato when he had gotten particularly cross with her, and to this day he still would subconsciously rub his right shoulder around her. To be fair, she could have hit him much harder.

"Have you read the paper today?" In front of her, the older man was finally catching his breath, and was clutching a wrinkled newspaper in his right hand. He slammed it down on the desk with enthusiasm, causing a container of pencils to rattle.

Asami regarded the paper with suspicion. Being the daughter of an Equalist leader and industry tycoon, as well as the ex-girlfriend of the Avatar's boyfriend _and _a friend of the Avatar, she did not have a very good relationship with the papers. "No, I haven't. Why?"

Nobuo bounced up and down, his graying-brown mustache twitching with excitement. "Because, Miss Sato, read the headline!"

Asami unfolded the paper and pressed it down over the desk, leaning over to get a proper look at the headline. _**Cabbage Corp Introduces New 'Convertible' Vehicle, Takes City by Storm**_**. **She scowled, fighting the urge to ball up her fists and destroy the paper in the process.

"We knew about this, Nobuo. Why are you showing me Cabbage Corp's victories?"

The older man frowned, impatience written all over his face. "Not _that _article, Miss Sato. To the left."

"_**Flame-O To Hold Contest for New Flavor**_?"

"No, no, _my _left!"

Shaking her head, Asami swept her gaze over to the other side of the paper. Finally, wedged between a large picture of an ugly green vehicle with no roof and a short article about a new sport being exhibited at the arena, was the bolded headline.

_**Fire Lady To Hold First "Airship" Race.**_

Asami felt her heartbeat picking up. "Airship race? Why would the Fire Lady hold an airship race?"

Nobuo swept a wrinkling hand over the paper. "It explains in the article. She's holding it in honor of the coronation for the Fire Prince."

The Fire Prince.

Oh, spirits. _Iroh_.

The mention of the fire prince put a halt on her growing excitement over the race. It had been four years since she had seen him last, but that didn't mean she was any bit less wary of meeting him again. Their parting had been...less than civil. She was in no hurry to relive those words, that feeling that gripped her like an unagi squeezing her heart, when he told her that he was leaving to return to the Fire Nation.

"And this race is...a good thing?" Asami chose her words carefully, her mind still reeling with Iroh and all the possibilities of a new race. A _flying _race.

Nobuo shifted his weight from one foot to the other, mustache twitching upwards with his smile. "Yes! And Cabbage Corp is entering, meaning we have a chance to draw attention back to the Satomobile industry while they're off in the Fire Nation!"

Asami fought back a sigh. Trust Nobuo to be the perpetual businessman. She couldn't fault him for that; he was supposed to keep the best interests of the business at heart. And if they could wedge their way back into the automobile world when Cabbage Corp was off racing biplanes, that would boost their production exponentially.

But there was one thing that could be better.

"Nobuo, we're entering this contest."

The older man stopped bouncing to stare at her, an incredulous look painted all over his features. Asami had to fight back a giggle-he looked exactly like Bolin right after she had once dumped a bucket of water over him and Korra for coming home drunk.

"You can't be serious," he stuttered. "We stopped development of your father's biplane four years ago, since nobody wanted to buy an Equalist machine. Cabbage Corp and Mecha-machine Inc. are years ahead of us in development."

Asami gritted her teeth. "Then we won't be held back by any old models or backers. We'll have a chance to bring something _new _to the table." The idea of designing something besides a racecar had adrenaline pumping through her with excitement. There were so many things she could do!

Nobuo was still giving her a look akin to a gaping fish, so she amended her argument. "Plus, think of all the press we'll get if we win. It'll be a fresh start for Future Industries, something we sorely need."

He tapped his chin, clearly intrigued by the idea of a new image and free advertising. "I suppose you have a point there..."

"Of course I do," Asami grinned, eyes lighting up with a competitive spirit she hadn't felt in years. "It would be just the kick we need to become competitive again."

"Very well, Miss Sato. I'll start looking into the details. Are you sure you do not wish to sit on our decision for entering...?"

"No." Her reply was curt. "No, just please find out what we need to do to enter."

"Alright, then. I'll report back tomorrow."

Asami sighed as she watched the older gentleman turn and leave the warehouse, shuffling slightly from side to side. Nobuo was a businessman, and a realist. Of course he wanted to talk through such an important decision before making it final. To do otherwise would be rash and nonsensical.

But if Nobuo started listing out the pros and cons, she would actually have to think her plan through. And she didn't need to start thinking about what specifically a race in the Fire Nation would entail. Where she would be staying, who she would have to see. If she did, she may back out before they even started.

And she couldn't do that. This was their chance to put Future Industries back on the map, and nothing was going to stop her. Not Cabbage Corp, not her father, not Future Industries' abysmal public image.

And most certainly not her stupid, honorable, Fire Prince of an ex-boyfriend.

* * *

A/N: So...hey guys! It's been a while! Unfortunately, life caught up with me in all sorts of awesome ways so I haven't been able to write at all over the past few months. But I'm finally getting a chance to write again, and I just couldn't wait to post this story. I hope you like it, I'm very much looking forward to continuing it. Let me know what you think!


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: Six Months, One Week Until the Race**

* * *

"You're in the papers again."

Asami didn't even have her second foot through the doorstep when Korra's voice, flat toned and almost bored, reached her. Both of them were too used to this routine to be surprised.

"Which one?"

"Republic City Enquirer."

A half shrug and another step and she was through the door, stumbling on the crooked stairs before landing safely in their apartment. The town house was small, taller than it was wide, but it suited them both just fine. A kitchen and living area on the first floor, Korra's room on the second, and Asami's on the third, with a small roof deck on top. Had they been in a better part of town, that roof deck would have been nice.

Asami shrugged. "Nobody really listens to the Enquirer anymore anyway, not since they insisted Councilman Cheng was organizing an underground drug ring. What are they saying this time?"

Korra grinned from her perch on the couch, large boots propped up on one arm of the fluffy purple monstrosity. Salvaged from her family manor before the sale was finalized, she was oddly fond of it. It took up a disproportionately large amount of the small living room, but it could also fit four people across if you really set your mind to it.

It also made a good makeshift bed for the impossibly vivacious Avatar, who had dissolved into decisively unladylike snickers. "They're insisting that you, Mako, and I are in a three-way relationship."

She let out a short, barking laugh at the absurdity of it. "And what did Mako do when he saw that?"

Korra's eyes danced in merriment. "He turned a bit purple and set the paper on fire."

Asami chuckled at the thought and shrugged off her maroon coat onto the coat rack standing next to the door, leaning at a somewhat precarious angle. The Future Industries logo on the jacket caught the light and flashed in her vision, sinking her heart just a bit. Did she really enter an airship race today? Right, she did.

Oh well. Asami put the airship out of her mind to focus on her current predicament. "I still don't understand why they can't just let that go. It's been five years."

Truth be told, Asami could hardly remember her relationship with Mako. Between her father and the war with the Equalists, it was the most turbulent time in her life. By the time the revolution was over, it almost felt like they'd never been together. She hadn't been angry, she had hardly even been sad. It constantly surprised her how people could still be fixated on something so unimportant after everything that had happened.

"Because it fits their story and sells papers." Korra's response answered her internal musings as well. Asami sighed. Until she provided them with juicier gossip, they would likely never leave her alone.

She could only thank the spirits they had never found out about Iroh.

"Anything interesting happen at the job today?" Korra worked with the Republic city council, fulfilling her avatar duties and doing her best to reshape the city into a better place after the revolution. She had grumbled about it at first, but in true Korra fashion had managed to plow through the red tape that the rest of the council was too polite to ignore. Asami was sure she secretly enjoyed her job.

The dark-skinned girl pulled her feet back and sat up, a bored expression on her face. "Nothing at all, just had to listen to different proposals and old grievances all day. What about you?"

Asami shrugged. "Koji wrecked another racecar."

Korra's nose wrinkled as she tried to hold in a chuckle. "So nothing out of the ordinary today for you, either."

Asami couldn't help but smile at that. "I suppose you're right." She crossed the living room in two long steps and collapsed into another chair, running her hand through her hair.

"So...did you read the city newspaper today?"

Asami pulled her hand away from her face and eyed the other girl with suspicion. Even for Korra, that was blunt. "Parts of it, yes. I saw that the Fire Lady is holding an airship race, which was rather surprising."

"Ah." The response was too short, too quick. Korra had never been good at lying. Asami's eyes flickered to the floor, where Korra not-so-subtly was kicking a folded newspaper under the couch.

Aha. "You knew."

Korra shrugged unapologetically. "I did. But I knew you'd see it too, so I wanted to hear your reaction first. Are you entering?"

"Nobuo's looking into it, but I think so. Yes."

Korra grinned. "Good, I'm glad. I've seen what you've done to those racecars, it's about time you get some recognition for your work. Those silly old men at Cabbage Corp won't know what hit them!"

Asami's smile was thin, drawn across her face as she narrowed her eyes in worry. "I hope that's the case. We haven't worked on the biplane in four years, so I don't know what we're going to do for a racing plane." She drew a hand through her hair, rubbing out some of the tension in her forehead. "Not to mention it's going to be at the _Fire Palace_, which is the last place in the world I want to go, what with..." She trailed off, not wanting to say her worries out loud. Maybe if she never spoke them, they wouldn't materialize.

Korra's dark brows knitted together in concern as she picked up the older girl's incomplete thought. "Iroh." She reached out and put a hand on Asami's shoulder. "You'll be fine, I know how you get when you focus on your work. Besides, I'm going to have to be there as the Avatar, aren't I? If you're going too, I'll drag Mako and Bolin along and it'll be just like old times!"

Her proclamation made Asami feel unexpectedly lighthearted, like a heavy weight had lifted from her chest. It was easy, sometimes, to forget how good of friends she had.

"I appreciate that, Korra,"

Korra's grin stretched ear to ear, threatening to take over her entire face, and Asami had to laugh. Straightening her legs in front of her, she slowly got up off the rickety chair and turned towards the kitchen. "I'm making tea, you want some?"

"Only if there's sugar in it!"

Another laugh and Asami stepped into the kitchen, pulling out two mugs and an intricate teapot with a golden dragon curling around it. A gift from Iroh, one she was too fond of to throw away. This was a routine for them, tea and gossiping about the gossip magazines after work, so Asami allowed herself to sink into the comfortable familiarity of it and forget about everything else. Just for now.

* * *

It wasn't until much later, after an exuberant Bolin came bounding through their front door talking incessantly about pro-bending finals and the fire ferrets chances, followed by a much more sedate Mako, when Asami was finally able to escape to her room. It wasn't that she didn't enjoy their spirited discussion of the upcoming championship games. But after such a long, emotional day she had been craving that little bit of solstice being alone could offer.

For the most part, Asami loved living in such a lively home. Between Korra and the airbending family and Mako and Bolin, she had good friends and certainly plenty of company. But on those days when things got to be too much, her small room was a welcome escape. It wasn't much-a wide, comfortable bed across from a mirror and armoire, with a small closet and one window letting in the moonlight-but it was hers.

As she sat on a plush stool in front of the mirror-both kept from her childhood room-she heard the soft mumbling and creaking stairs meaning that Bolin must have departed and her roommate and her boyfriend were going upstairs to her room. From the third floor, she could still hear the muffled conversation.

"He just gets so excited about it, somethings. I worry that they aren't going to do as well this year, and he'll be crushed."

A low chuckle. "He's not a kid any more, Mako. And they'll do fine. You seem to be conveniently forgetting how crazy you would get about probending back when you were on the team."

Asami heard a low huff from the stairway and had to press a hand over her mouth to stifle a giggle. "I wasn't that bad."

"Yes you were." Then, the unmistakable sound of a kiss, short and tender. "Now come to bed, you have that big case tomorrow and Bei Fong is going to kill you if you're late." The sound of Korra's door closing echoed through the hallway, and then silence.

It was sweet, chaste even, so seemingly unbefitting of the Korra most people knew that Asami couldn't help but smile. It wasn't that she was less vivacious, less stubborn with her friends. But she was also more relaxed, more at ease than the rare occurrences Asami saw her at the city council or giving speeches to the public. And with Mako, she was thoughtful, tender. After their whirlwind courtship, nobody would have guessed that the avatar and the rookie probending firebender would have had such a long, stable relationship. One with knowing glances and gentle smiles and that feeling that everything would be alright.

Asami had had that once, too. Not with Mako, no. That relationship had been based too much on attraction and excitement and not enough on that something deeper, somethingmore than themselves that it had started to fizzle even before it became obvious her then beau was smitten with someone else. It had hurt, of course. Oh how she had cried, those first few weeks alone. But that ache had dissipated quickly. It hadn't lingered, on the edges of her consciousness, for years and years. Like now, when she still ached for someone else.

Asami Sato had never had the best luck with men. Starting with her father and working all the way down to the Fire-Lord-to-be, she had been disappointed and let down more times than she could count. When she was younger, her father would clap her on the shoulder and tell her that there were "plenty of other koi in the pond" or any of those other silly phrases until she couldn't help but laugh and feel better. But now...

Asami screwed her eyes shut and took a deep breath. Even a passing thought of her father had her heart wrenching uncomfortably tight in her chest, as if suddenly there wasn't enough air in the room to properly breathe. Her father, who had raised her and taught her everything there was to know about automobiles and engines and machines. Her father, who used to buy her action figures of swordsmen and archers instead of pro-benders and battle her over their worn, living room rug because they were both non-benders so why would they want to pretend otherwise? Her father, who was now rotting under a cell beneath the city council, sending her word whenever he could that he was _sorry_ and that he was _wrong_ and if that she would only _listen_ to him she would see...

"Enough of that," Asami mumbled to herself, the noise from speaking the words out loud interrupting her thoughts. Self pity would get her nowhere, and, despite his pleas of change after the fall of Amon, her father had made it abundantly clear where his loyalties stood.

The reflection in the mirror stared back at her, eyes drawn and tired. She pulled the elastic out of her hair, letting it fall limply around her face. The strands were getting long again, brushing nearly to her shoulder blades. The stubborn ends were already starting to show a slight curl, despite the absurd amount of straightening product she had dumped on them this morning. She wrinkled her nose, wishing that just once out of the last four years she didn't have to fight with it to keep it straight and out of the way, as if it was a living creature with a mind of its own.

_Iroh loved your hair,_ a small, treacherous part of her mind started to say. Asami slammed her brush down and jumped out of the chair, forcing the subconscious voice into submission. She had meant to relax tonight, but instead she dove into her filing cabinet instead and focused on finding and organizing the old schematics she stashed there for the biplane. At least then her mind wouldn't run away with her, throwing old memories and dreams at her when she was normally so good at focusing on the present, on what made her happy.

It was only later, as she lay down in bed staring at the ceiling, counting paint flakes and trying to see pictures in the water stains, that she allowed herself to think of Iroh, just a bit. She had been so smitten, so happy during those short six months they had together. He had stayed in Republic City a year following the fall of Amon, rebuilding the United Forces and establishing an outpost in the city. They had talked and flirted and teased for the first six months he had been there, playing the honorable prince and the proper lady until he had finally thrown caution to the wind. Asami had loved every minute of their courtship, thinking foolishly that they would have all the time in the world to be together.

If she had known then of his mother's slowly failing health, his duties to the throne, his little brother needing him to return home, she would have told him of her feelings earlier. Maybe if they had more time, things wouldn't have ended the way they did. Maybe if she hadn't said the things she did, or let him walk away...

Asami quickly shut that thought off before it could escape, twist out of control like a fourteen year old's fantasy. Thoughts like that had no place in her world-pragmatic, proper, cautious. Asami was never one to be a lovestruck fool. She knew about duty, about loyalty, about all those things that were more important than that one person you dreamed of at night.

Maybe if she had been someone else. Maybe if she had been more like Korra, she would have run after him and made him regret leaving her. Maybe she would have risked everything to follow him, and somehow it would have turned out alright. Maybe they could still be together.

But she was Asami, and he was Iroh. She was proper and he was honorable and spirits only knew they never had a chance.

* * *

**A/N: And so ends Chapter 2. I'm sorry for the barrage of exposition, between this chapter and the last there was a lot to introduce. And still a lot more to come! Next chapter includes more antics and excitement at Future Industries, and appearances by more familiar characters.**

**Thank you all so much for the fantastic feedback from the first chapter! As always, comments and reviews are very much appreciated, and be sure to let me know if any plot points are confusion or not explained well enough!**

**Hugs and kisses,**

**Korrallaries**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: Six Months Until the Race**

* * *

"You are entirely serious about this, then."

The voice came from behind her, dry without being insulting, and Asami didn't need to turn around to see who was speaking.

But she did, anyway, out of courtesy. Placing one last pin in the wall to secure her large, hand drawn schematic, she stepped back to face her visitor. She knew no other name for him than "Lee," but he was also the lead technical director and manager of the Future Industries Forklift division. Shrewd and incredibly intelligent, he was a man of few words. It had been many months before he started to speak freely around her.

"Why wouldn't I be?" She smiled, then, happy to be able to speak about the project with someone who would understand her ideas. "Worried that I'll drag you away from the terribly exciting world of forklifts?"

Although he didn't smile, the small quirk at the corner of his mouth betrayed his mirth. "I merely question the timeframe we have to build a product we haven't touched in four years." A real smile, then. "Though I imagine, if anyone, you would pull it off."

Still grinning, Asami shook her head and turned back to the blueprint, double checking the pins that were keeping it in place. Though she doubted that "Lee" was his real name, she couldn't exactly blame him for wanting to lay low with his identity. While he looked far different now than when she first saw him, eyes obscured by a pair of eerie green goggles and a twisting mask, his pencil thin moustache remained a permanent feature that helped Asami make the connection between her current employee and the man who once worked for her enemy.

When she had first hired Amon's old lieutenant, most of Future Industries thought her to be insane. Even Nobuo, who usually deferred to her judgment, fought against the idea. "Why would you want to further taint the company's reputation?" he had said. She had to struggle no to reply that her father had already damaged it beyond repair, so why fight it?

Besides, Asami believed in redemption. And she believed in Korra, who had told her the story of how the lieutenant had turned against Amon once he had revealed himself a bloodbender. Even fought against him, buying Korra and Mako time to escape.

It had made a twisted amount of sense, looking back on it. Lee was the only person besides her who knew the details of her father's work, having worked with him during the Equalist regime. He had experience with the aspects of the inventions that she had been less familiar with-the electric rods, the gloves. The use of platinum and other metals in the mechatanks, which ironically was central to her radical new redesign to her father's flying machine.

Part of the redesign that was currently tacked to the wall behind her, full of half finished and crude sketches for every critical component of the machine. Sketches that she was fully aware Lee was critically examining over her shoulder. She winced, bracing herself for the pointed questions he was sure to have for her.

Sure enough, only a moment had passed when he started to ask, "Where is the-?"

"Asami!"

Lee's question was abruptly cut off by the shout, accompanied by a loud bang of the double doors slamming open. Lee scowled at the interruption, and Asami felt somewhat bad for welcoming the distraction. Lee's opinion mattered to her, and she wanted to be able to gather her thoughts before explaining her rather...radical design of her father's old biplane.

"Hello, Koji, Goro, Nobuo." She smiled at arriving figures, Koji rushing in excitedly and the two older men trailing behind. "Make yourselves comfortable, we're going to be discussing the plans for the new raceplane.

Koji rushed forward and leaped over the desk in one easy motion, settling on top and pulling his knees to his chest like an excitable child. "So we're really doing this, entering an airship race? Do I get to fly? Please tell me I get to fly!"

Asami fought off the urge to pinch her nose in frustration. "We will have to see. Patience and focus are both critical to flying safely, so perhaps I'll have to watch you during this meeting to determine whether you are ready."

Truth be told, having Koji fly was always in the plan. But maybe if she convinced him otherwise she wouldn't have to deal with his constant complaining over the next two hours.

"What?!" Hands on his hips, the younger boy looked more ridiculous than indignant. "You're testing me based on how well I sit and listen to your lecture?"

"That's right."

Koji let out a huff that reminded her strongly of Mako and sat back, hands crossed over his chest. "Fine, let's get this over with."

With the younger boy pacified, or at least silenced, both Nobuo and Goro reached the front of the garage and eased down into the rickety chairs placed in front of the schematic. "I finalized our entrance into the race this morning, Miss Sato," Nobuo said, folding his hands neatly into his lap. "We will need to arrive in the Fire Nation capital one week prior to the race by boat, with the airship. That gives us exactly five months and two weeks, accounting for travel. Are you sure we will be finished in time?"

"That's the plan," she replied, plastering what she hoped was a confident grin on her face. "Using some of the old biplane schematics and parts we can—"

"That's the new raceplane design?" Koji interrupted. "But where's the...the..." he extended his arms straight on either side of him, waving them up and down in a circular motion. "The spinney things!"

Apparently his patience and focus didn't last very long. "Propellers?" Asami prompted, mostly just to keep him from falling off the desk from his erratic arm movements.

"Yeah! Propellers!"

This time, Asami did let herself pinch her nose. "They're not necessary with this design. I will explain when I get to that part of the-"

"Not necessary? Why not? And why are there only two wings, instead of four?"

Instead of answering, Asami leveled him with a hard stare. "Do you want to race this plane or not?"

The younger boy abruptly stopped talking, and she was pleased to see him gulp down his last argument and settle back down onto the desk. "Yes, ma'am."

He called her ma'am. Asami checked, but the ground did not open up to swallow her whole. Perhaps there was hope for the boy yet

"Good. Then let me finish explaining the design." Stepping back, Asami moved to the beginning of the six foot schematic, where an unmistakable biplane was sketched in the upper left hand corner. "This," she pointed to the biplane, "is our original biplane design. Constructed from the same steel we used in Satomobiles, the biplane structure had two superimposed wings on either side, held together by thin struts. Having these superimposed wings gave the plane more lift and structural stability, but also greatly increased drag which slowed the plane down." Moving further to the right, she pointed to another, larger drawing. "_This_ is our new design."

Asami stepped aside to avoid blocking anyone's view of the new plane and smiled at the wide, surprised eyes of her audience. The drawing showed a large departure from the old biplane design, using two, single wings instead of four superimposed wings. The tail of the plane had a similar design, foregoing the old superimposed tail for a sleek, single tail. The propellers were gone, and instead two large engines were mounted under each wing.

Goro looked at her with an appraising eye. "You got rid of the double wings. Will that work? That old steel would bend and break if a gust of wind just _looked_ at it the wrong way."

Asami smiled. "Yes, I believe so. According to my father's old notes, he wanted to move to a single wing design but couldn't because the engine wasn't powerful enough and the plane was too heavy. Thanks to his experimentation with platinum, and our developments in metal alloys, we should be able to build a lighter plane that can get the lift it needs and be strong enough to hold shape without the struts between the wings."

"So what do we call it, then? It's not a biplane." Nobuo, ever focusing on publicity and marketing, cut in.

Asami raised a slender eyebrow. "I'm not sure. A monoplane, perhaps?"

It was then that Lee, standing silently behind the rest, raised a question. "I understand the structure change," he said slowly. Despite his low tone, his voice carried easily over the noises and echoes of the small warehouse. "But how will we achieve any thrust in air without propellers?"

She smiled. "_That_ part was my idea." She stepped back towards the schematic, silently hoping that he didn't poke holes in all her analysis and equations. "The big problem with the propellers was that, once they reached a high enough speed, the efficiency drops substantially. Between friction and drawbacks in mechanical couplings, the energy efficiency you'll get out of a propeller decreases constantly even with a more powerful engine."

"'Sami, you're speaking in tongues." Koji grumbled from his perch. "What do you mean?"

From the side, Goro shoved him on the shoulder, nearly sending the young boy toppling. "She means that making the propellers spin faster won't make the plane go any faster."

"Well," Asami amended. "Not _that_ much faster. There's a point where it isn't worth increasing their speed anymore, both due to efficiency and mechanical concerns. We don't want a fast spinning propeller to pop off and turn into a boomerang."

"A _deadly_ boomerang."

"Hush, Koji." Asami waved a dismissive hand in his direction before continuing. "We ended up with a propeller design in the first place since it was the logical choice in order to turn the Satmobile into a flying machine. My father used the same engine he used in his cars in the biplane. Instead of spinning wheels, it spins propellers. But he needed three of his piston engines to get the necessary lift, one in the middle," she pointed to the center of the old biplane design, just in front of the wings, "and two over the wings." She pointed to each of the superimposed wings in turn, before turning back to the new design.

"But then we end up with all this exhaust from the engine fuel just drifting off into space. Instead, I propose that we use the energy from burning the engine fuel directly: by compressing it, igniting it, and using the resulting force to drive the plane forward."

Lee eyed the design warily. "So you want to use the exhaust from the engine to provide the thrust for the plane? Will that work?"

Asami pursed her lips. "I think so. I originally had the idea back when we were working on the old biplane, four years ago. We started building a prototype engine, but the biggest drawback was being able to compress and ignite the fuel without using up more energy than the fuel put out. Well, that and the fact that nobody wanted to buy a Future Industries biplane."

"But you think you _can_ get enough energy out of it to make this engine a viable solution?"

She dipped her head in response. "Yes. This design has fewer moving parts, so less chance of mechanical inefficiency or friction. And I believe we now have a solution for the fuel compression. Do any of you remember how we got that big boost in power for the new line of forklifts?"

Blank stares greeted her, except for Lee who was nodding. No surprise there. "The new Mecha-machine engine, the gas turbine," he said, enunciating his words clearly as if he was thinking it through as he was speaking. "It uses the energy output of the fuel to feed directly back into the compressor to be self-sustaining."

Goro slanted an annoyed look at the other man. "Meaning…?"

"Meaning," Asami said quickly, before any animosity reared its head. "The engine itself can drive itself. Engines work in three stages: you compress the fuel, ignite it, and then use the resulting explosion to drive a shaft. The new engine in our forklifts uses some of that energy from the explosion to compress more gas at the same time. That way, we don't need a separate system to compress the gas. If we use that same idea in the plane engine, we can get it to be efficient enough to run."

Goro stroked his beard, which consisted of a few wispy hairs clinging to his chin. "Alright, I don't work with those fancy equations that you two do, but it seems reasonable to me." He stood up, cracking his knuckles. "I'm behind you on this, but what are we going to do to make sure it gets built in time? And test it?"

Asami smiled, feeling that familiar tickle of excitement that accompanied a new project running down her spine. When was the last time she was this excited about something? "We'll start by pulling out that old engine prototype I was talking about. A couple solid weeks of work and we should be able to test it." She eyed the blueprint behind her. "As for the plane, we'll start stripping down some of the framework from the old biplanes and use it to mold a new body. I should be able to get a firebender in here to help with the welding and molding process." She silently hoped Mako wouldn't mind her volunteering him for the job—he always _seemed_ to enjoy the times he spent helping her with cars, at least.

"Sure thing, boss. I'll get that old engine out now." The old mechanic grinned, clearly unashamed of his few missing teeth. "It'll take a while, though. I'll have it out for you by tomorrow?"

"Sounds great, Goro. Thanks."

Nobuo, who had remained mostly silent during the meeting, got up out of his seat and started to follow Goro out the door, stopping by Asami's side. "I am very excited about this, Miss Sato. If the new plane functions as expected, we'll be showing the whole world that we aren't the same old Future Industries anymore!"

_As long as it works, right._ Asami forced the doubting voice in the back of her head and plastered on a smile. "That's the idea, Nobuo. Thanks for getting us set up in the race."

"Of course, Miss Sato! Good day!" Nobuo swept into an elaborate bow that had Asami blushing. She was the president of a struggling company, it did not require such formal gestures from her staff. But not matter how many times she explained that to the older gentleman, his habits didn't change.

Nobuo swept towards the exit, followed by a quieter Lee who was still lost in thought and carefully stroking his moustache. Asami had to fight back a chuckle as he walked by, offering him a short wave instead before turning back to the front of the room where Koji was still perched on the desk, peering at the schematic.

"You alright, Koji?"

"Sure thing, boss," the young boy replied without turning around. He waved his hand in the air in a non-committal gesture. "Just thinking about our new race plane. I gotta fully understand how it works if I'm going to be the best racer than all the other chumps out there!"

Asami was pretty sure that Koji didn't understand how his _current_ racing vehicle, the Satomobile, worked, but she decided not to mention that. "Oh-kay," she said instead, slowly starting towards her bag to clean up. "I'll leave you to it then. I'm going to pack up and head home."

It wasn't until several minutes later, with her backpack slung across a shoulder and one hand on the door to leave, when she heard Koji exclaim, "Wait wait, I get it! You want us to strap _rockets_ on the plane!"

Asami hung her head and pinched the bridge of her nose with her free hand. "Close enough, Koji. Close enough."

* * *

**A/N: And now we get into the meat of the story! I hope everything makes sense so far, and be sure to let me know if anything is confusing. What do you think of Asami hiring Amon's Lieutenant onto her team?**

**As for the plane design, Asami is basically taking the WWI style planes introduced in the show and bringing them into the WWII era. That is, moving from a propeller based biplane towards a monoplane with a jet engine. A tough undertaking, but I think we all agree that Asami is awesome enough for the job.**

**I know I promised cameos by exciting, familiar characters this chapter but it ended up being long enough that I had to split it in two. The next chapter, however, is full of crazy antics and familiar faces and silliness, so be sure to check back soon.**

**Comments and reviews are cherished, as always.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4: Five Months, Two Weeks Until the Race**

It was two weeks later before Asami saw the sunlight.

Once Goro dragged the large engine prototype out of storage, huffing and puffing the entire way, the infernal hunk of metal took over her entire life. When they had first built it over four years ago, they had never gotten a chance to actually test it. And, even if they had, Asami doubted it would have worked.

And so Asami rose before dawn and got back after dusk, spending her days in a darkened warehouse. The concept of sunlight became a distant memory as she tinkered endlessly in the workshop, sometimes even sleeping on a small mat under her desk. The work was grueling, but the excitement of finally building something _new_ and _meaningful_ kept her from throwing her wrench through the drywall. Almost.

Goro would fix the panel soon, anyway.

But it was all worth it when, two weeks later, the finished engine prototype sat gleaming in front of her.

Perhaps gleaming wasn't the right word. The metal was still dull, after all, and the amount of grease both on the prototype and on her hands would be difficult for even Korra to waterbend away. But it was finished now, and she hoped functional, and that was all that mattered.

For the first week, she and Lee had worked together to integrate the newest Future Industries Forklift technology into the engine. A new motor, the latest in combustion engines, and a snazzy gas turbine. A cyclic design that should be efficient enough to run itself, to provide power without needing to spin propellor blades. An entirely new idea, like nothing the aviation world of Republic City or the Fire Islands had never seen before.

Asami swallowed her excited giggle, even though nobody was around. It wouldn't do to giggle like one of Bolin's probending fangirls over an _engine_. It was entirely unprofessional. Just because it was one of the most beautiful pieces of technology she had laid her eyes upon...

_Spirits, I need a life._

She stepped back, rubbing both her palms over her eyes and turning towards the door.

The engine was complete, and the tank was filled with a small amount of fuel. There was only one last thing to do. With a controlled ignition source, she could test it.

Stepping out in the sunlight, and quickly shielding her eyes, Asami silently hoped Mako wasn't out on a police shift today.

* * *

"You want me to...what, exactly?" Pointed eyebrows threatened to disappear into his hairline as Mako eyed the engine suspiciously. Walking around the perimeter of the device, he kept a careful distance from it at all times.

Asami fought back a snicker. The engine was bolted down solidly to the ground and, unlike some of their other creations, couldn't be moved or controlled from a distance. "I need you to ignite the turbine. A quick, controlled burst of fire into the ignition chamber should do the trick, just enough to ignite the fuel." Her lips curved into a smile. "I'd appreciate it if you would also make sure that things don't get...out of hand."

"Do you expect things to get out of hand?"

Asami's smiled turned rueful, and she extended both arms palms up. "It's not at full power, and the fuel tank only has enough for less than a minute of ignition. According to our best calculations, the one engine should produce less than half the thrust needed to break free of the restraints." She paused, and eyed the engine out of the corner of her eye. "Regardless, we should probably not stand...directly behind it. Or in front of it."

Her companion snickered and moved further towards the wall, pushing his sleeves up to his elbows with gloved hands as he did so. "Alright well, stand back then."

Asami waited until Mako had given the prototype his full attention before biting her lip and silently praying that the new improvements would work. Logically, she had no reason to believe that they wouldn't but...things always managed to go wrong for her, somehow.

Mako let out a thin stream of fire, cutting through her thoughts. Asami felt her breath catch as the fire sparked inside the ignitor, growing a soft reddish glow before disappearing into the turbine.

For a moment, there was nothing but silence.

Mako shot her a wary glance and Asami wrung her hands together. This was not supposed to happen. She had tested all of the mechanical parts of the engine separately and they had all worked fine. The ignitor was supposed to run on its own after a jump start. So what was...

A steady hum coming from the engine stopped her train of thought, and Asami shifted her gaze again to the prototype in the middle of the warehouse. Slowly, the hum turned into a whir as the outlet of the engine lit up with a warm, red glow.

"It works!" A rush of adrenaline coupled with fierce pride ran through her. Cabbage Corp. wouldn't know what hit them!

Asami held back a yelp at the engine lurched forward, pushing against the loading block she had set up to measure the engine's power. Mako edged further along the side of the warehouse, positioning himself closer to the front of the engine.

She counted the seconds as the engine continued to spin. Fifty six...fifty seven...the engine was pulling against its restraints now, straining just a bit off of the ground. Asami knew that the restraint system could hold five Future Industries engines without failing, but somehow that was not comforting when her prototype was bucking against the belts and chains like an angry armadillo-lion.

Especially when the engine should have run out of fuel thirty seconds ago.

"Mako!" she yelled, cupping a hand around her mouth to carry her voice over. "Can you douse the ignition, now?"

From across the room, Mako sunk down into a bending stance and extended one arm towards the prototype. The glow within the engine flickered briefly and dimmed, before again growing back to its original strength. Eyes frantic, he looked back towards Asami.

"Why isn't it stopping?!"

"I don't know! The fuel should have run out after thirty seconds!"

"But why can't _I_ stop it?!"

Asami bit the inside of the cheek. "Because it's self igniting, and the exhaust must be too powerful for one firebender to put out. Could you maybe...hold it steady, stem the flow?"

Mako dug his heels into the ground and leaned forward a bit into his stance, hands held palms out towards the prototype. Sweat broke out over his hairline, but the engine glow dimmed again and the prototype settled back on the ground. The whir of the turbine was still going strong. Asami suddenly wished she had asked for more backup to help her test. Maybe an entire squad of metalbenders.

Feeling frantic, Asami ran to the work bench and grabbed the closest tool she could find. A wrench. Good, she knew that could get thrown with a good trajectory.

Turning back towards the engine, she narrowed in on the fuel tank. Temporarily hinged outside of the main frame of the engine, she had left accessible in case they needed to douse the engine in a hurry. She didn't feel comfortable getting closer to the prototype, so this would have to do.

Praying that she didn't damage anything, Asami threw the metal tool towards the engine. With a satisfying clank, it clipped the fuel tank and knocked it off of the prototype.

For one agonizing moment, nothing changed. But then the whir of the engine slowly got softer, and the glow inside the turbine subsided. Finally, the engine stopped completely and creaked back against the floor of the warehouse.

Across from her, the rolling fuel tank slowed to a halt, lying sideways on the ground. A few small drops of fuel dripped out of it to form a tiny puddle on the floor. Spirits, the thing was about ready to stop on its own, anyway.

Once she was sure the prototype wasn't going to spontaneously burst into flame, Asami turned towards the firebender. He was still crouched on the other side of the warehouse, hands on his knees and breathing in heavy puffs. "Mako! Are you alright?"

Amber eyes glanced up to give her a wary look. His voice was dry, and only a little bit higher pitched than normal, when he replied.

"Well, I guess it works."

* * *

"Asami! Asami! You're here! What took you so long?" Only one year away from being a teenager, and Ikki hadn't lost any of her youthful exuberance. Asami couldn't help but smile as she stepped off the boat onto Air Temple Island, already barraged with questions from a small, inquisitive brunnette.

"It's nice to see you too, Ikki."

"Mako and Bolin just got here, and Korra's inside helping Tenzin with dinner. My mom's helping Rohan with his studies and told me to come down and get you! What's on your face?"

Asami bit back the reflex to reach for her compact mirror and check the offending spot. She knew it was still there, even after half an hour of scrubbing, and further scrutiny wouldn't change that. She had learned to not be so meticulous in her appearance after taking over Future Industries and becoming a part time resident in a greasy warehouse, but some old habits were hard to break.

"It's just some machine oil. Where are Mako and Bolin now?"

"Inside the library, with Jinora. I can take you there!"

Asami watched the younger girl with amusement as she spun around and flew off towards the house. It took her a few seconds to realize she needed to slow her pace for a non-airbender, and even then she fidgeted on the steps while waiting for Asami to catch up.

Ikki had not grown much in the past five years, though she was arguably more dangerous when she was so small and quick that nobody could catch her. The one feature that marked the passage of time from when they first met was the long plait that swung gracefully between her shoulder blades, grown out from two short buns.

Jinora, on the other hand, had kept her hair trimmed to just below her chin. When Asami and Ikki entered the library, she brushed it back absentmindedly while looking up from a book. Wisps of black bangs just barely covered the light blue arrow on her forehead. She would roll her eyes when anybody mentioned it, but Korra had privately told Asami that the younger girl was incredibly proud of receiving her tattoos.

"Oh, hello Asami." Jinora's voice had gotten a bit deeper with age, and it sometimes made it difficult to remember that the girl was only fifteen. She spoke better than most of the adults Asami's age, after all. "If you're looking for Mako and Bolin, I think they're in the kitchen now."

"Why the kitchen?" Mako certainly enjoyed cooking, but Bolin wouldn't go near a stove with a ten foot pole.

Dark eyes sparkled as Jinora's lips curled into a smile. "They were being disruptive, so I may have channeled my mother and sent them to do something useful. They should be setting up the table."

Asami bit the inside of her cheek to keep from groaning. It had been too long of a day to turn into a wild goose chase to find the brothers. It was Mako's needling that had gotten her to agree to dinner in the first place. When they had left the warehouse, covered in grease and utterly exhausted, Asami had been ready to crawl into bed and sleep for the rest of the day. Mako had guilted her into coming to dinner at Air Temple Island instead, reminding her how long it had been since she had last seen the airbending family.

When she finally did find Mako and Bolin, they had just finished setting up dinner in the dining room. Mako was completely clean of any engine grease, the jerk. Korra was absentmindedly waterbending tea into a number of small cups around the table, and she smiled brightly as Asami entered the room. "'Sami! Mako told me your engine works!"

"A little better than expected." Mako snorted at this, but she ignored him. "So with any luck, we'll be able to fit it into the new plane body and-"

"And we can talk about work _after_ dinner!" Pema's voice carried over their conversation as she entered the room, a tired looking Rohan trotting behind her. She sat down at the table and brushed her gray-streaked hair over one shoulder. "But for now, we eat."

As always, dinner with Pema and Tenzin was very pleasant, but Asami had to stop herself from nodding off several times. She could practically hear her father tutting in the back of her mind about not being a gracious guest. _You must always be kind to your hosts. Recounting all their flaws comes afterwards, with family!_ She silenced that voice as quickly as she could.

The conversation drifted from politics to airbending to Jinora's historical studies, and then back to Korra's job with the council. Bolin talked for awhile about his new pro bending team and Asami tried to listen, really she did, she was just so tired. It wasn't until a mention of the Fire Lady's retirement and the coronation that her attention snapped back to the discussion.

"You'll be going to the coronation?" Korra's voice was muffled from a mouth full of rice, and at Pema's sharp look she quickly swallowed it with a rueful smile. Normally Asami would have also admonished the avatar for her atrocious table manners, but right now she was just grateful that Korra had managed to ask the question that was still stuck in her throat.

"I'm attending the coronation as a council member and as a representative of the airbenders. And apparently, my father and the soon-to-be firelord's grandfather were good friends." Tenzin's mouth quirked up in a small smile. "And of course my family will be accompanying me, because they would never forgive me for taking a vacation to the Fire Islands and leaving them behind."

Pema shot him a serene smile. "Of course we wouldn't, dear."

Korra and Bolin snickered, but Asami was still intent on finding out more about the coronation. "Will you all be traveling just for the ceremony, then?"

It was Pema who responded this time. "Of course not! We're getting there a week early, just like you. We wouldn't miss your competition for the world."

Suddenly, Asami was having a hard time swallowing the lump stuck in her throat. "Oh. Thank you." Her voice was thick with emotion, but thankfully Pema didn't notice or mention it.

She didn't know that the airbending family even knew of the airship competition, much less was planning on attending. Korra had always told her the Tenzin and Pema thought of her as one of their own, but she had often still felt a step removed from the rest of the crew-Bolin, Mako, Korra. She wasn't an orphan or the avatar or an airbender, just a friend who would show up to help with the children or dinner every once in awhile.

Apparently they didn't feel the same way.

Tenzin had launched into the logistics of their travel to the Fire Islands when Ikki started squirming in her seat like an overeager fox-hound waiting for food.

"Dad, dad, dad!"

Tenzin kept his face forward, resolutely ignoring his middle daughter and continuing the conversation. "As I was saying, we will be taking the merchant barge to the Islands about two weeks before the coronation, to give us time for the welcoming ball and-"

"Dad, dad, DAD!"

A flush rising from the base of his neck to his airbending tattoos, Tenzin set his jaw and turned towards his daughter. "What, Ikki?!"

If the sudden outburst startled her, she didn't show it. A large grin grew across her face as she asked, "Can we travel to the Fire Islands on the same boat as Korra and Asami and Mako and Bolin? Please?"

Asami bit back and giggle and watched Korra struggle to cover her grin as the elder councilman groaned and sank his head into both his hands.

"Yes, Ikki. We can all travel there together."

* * *

**A/N: I don't think words can excuse how absurdly late this is, so I'm just going to post it and hope you all don't hate me.**

**Love,**

**Korrallaries**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5: Two Weeks Until the Race**

It was beautiful.

Sure, it could use another coat of paint. It didn't have the beautiful decorations on the sides like other biplanes did, and the metal body was just a tad asymmetrical and rough since they had to build most of the body from scrap metal salvaged from their old biplanes. The wings looked stubby and somewhat oddly placed in the middle of the aircraft, kind of like a tiger seal had suddenly gained the ability to fly.

But it was _hers_. And it _worked_.

Asami could still hear Koji's whoop of excitement when they finally had gotten the plane up in the air. "'Sami! 'Sami! It's working!" he had yelled, a white knuckled grip on the yoke the only indication that he was at all nervous.

"I know!" She had yelled back up across his shoulder, holding her aviator glasses in place even though the cockpit was completely enclosed. "Now focus on steering!"

She had been sitting behind him in the passenger's seat, making sure the younger boy didn't do anything stupid. She needn't have worried, since he treated the new plane with a careful respect that she hadn't realized he even possessed. They had flown from one end of Republic City to the other, gently gaining altitude over the water and turning over the twinkling lights of the Pro-Bending Stadium. When they finally touched down, she let out a long breath of relief and didn't even tell Koji off when he gave her a sloppy mock salute.

He was probably saving all his stupid moves for the competition, though that thought didn't make her feel any better.

Asami put the competition out of her mind for the moment and walked behind her desk. She pressed both hands against the cool, chipped wood and lifted her head to admire her plane, now safely stored back at the warehouse. Tomorrow, she would need to hook it up to a Sato-Truck and bring it to the docks for their trip to the fire nation. She would need to pack three weeks worth of clothes, including her aviation gear and traveling gear for both the trip there and the trip back. And she would need to make sure she brought any tools she might need to tune up the aircraft once she reached the Fire Islands.

She would also need to come to terms with the fact that was, indeed, _going_ to the Fire Islands. For the past five and a half months, denial about that particular aspect of the competition had worked rather well.

She had never been to the Fire Nation before. Once, a very long time ago, she had promised to visit. But the sudden, jarring departure of a certain firebending general had thrown a wrench into those plans.

Asami shook her head and shut down those thoughts. No use going down that road, it only ended in remorse and despair.

Instead, she busied herself with tidying up her desk. Slips of paper with half-finished equations decorated most of its surface, each wrinkled with grease stains. Asami gathered them up to file them away when she noticed a plain white letter addressed to her lying underneath her notes.

She picked it up and recognized the ornate script almost immediately. Nobuo must have delivered it while she was busy testing the plane. She didn't need to open it to know what it said.

_I'm sorry. I love you. Forgive me._

Asami felt the familiar pang in her gut that happened whenever she let herself think about her father. She angrily jerked a drawer open and shoved the letter into it when she rapped her knuckles against something cold and solid.

Cursing, she grabbed the offending object and pulled it out of the desk. It felt oddly familiar in her hand, a small figure of a female warrior holding a sword, though it took her a moment to place where she recognized it from.

What was her childhood toy doing inside her desk?

It took her a moment before the answer hit her like a train. Of course. Before she had taken over the company, this had been her _father's_ desk .

...he had kept her favorite toy for all this time?

She frowned and reached down into the drawer again to search for the other figure, but nothing else was there. When she was younger, she always played with the swordsman and her father always used a figure with a long, ancient looking rifle. She had loved that the action figures were non-benders, just like her. She and her father would sit on the carpet in front of the fire and stage elaborate battles and fights, which usually ended with her father's figure surrendering.

After her mother had died, her father had put the figures away and started her with self defense lessons, instead.

Asami held the offending figure in her hand, looking back at the plane that had so thoroughly distracted her for the last six months. When she came back, she would have to think more on what all of this meant. But for the next two weeks, she needed to focus on the competition and nothing else.

Her hand hovered over the desk, ready to drop the swordsman inside and leave the warehouse for the night. But instead of putting the figure back, she grabbed a roll of tape and walked over to the plane, fastening the figure tightly to the long pointed nose cone. She knew there was no way that it would stay secured during flight, but for some reason it seemed like the right thing to do.

Asami dropped the tape on the ground and turned away, flicking off the lights as she left the warehouse for the night.

* * *

It would have been better, Asami thought, if she had remembered her tendency to get violently seasick _before_ the ship had cast off.

Not like there was much she could have done to stop it. Though she could have remembered to bring a bit of extra powder so she could disguise just how green her face must be. She would get used to it, eventually, but it had been a long time since she had traveled anywhere beyond Republic City.

"Asami! There you are!"

Asami couldn't bring herself to stand up straight when she heard Korra approaching, but she made a valiant effort to turn her head. The other girl eyes widened briefly, before an infuriating smirk crossed her face.

"Feeling a bit seasick, are we?"

Asami scowled. "Just because you were a fish in another life doesn't mean that we all enjoy the open sea."

Korra chuckled before uncorked the water skin at her side, wiggling her fingers as small tendrils of liquid streamed out. "You know, it's a bit funny that you can drive racecars and fly planes at unnatural speeds without batting an eyelash, but a slowly rocking ship makes you all sick."

If she wasn't feeling as if her dinner was going to make a second appearance, Asami would have agreed. She settled on groaning instead, pressing both forearms against the cool metal of the railing and hunching her head over them.

She heard Korra snicker beside her. "Oh stop being such a drama queen. I've got this."

Cool, pulsing water wrapped its way around her forehead and stretched across her temples. Slowly, her dizziness and nausea melted away. Asami breathed a sigh of relief as she stood up straighter, stretching the tight muscles in her shoulders. "You're a saint, Korra."

Korra let the water drop off the side of the ship and blew on her knuckles, a dangerous grin on her face. "Oh, I know."

Asami laughed and had to hold back another sarcastic remark. The girl had just cured her of her seasickness after all. "Where are Mako and Bolin?" she asked instead.

The waterbender shrugged. "Still under the deck, I think. I helped Mako settle in and their room is tiny! He's not looking forward to living with his brother again, either, even if it is only for a week."

Technically, Mako still _did_ live with his brother. Not like anyone would know that, with the amount of time he spent at her apartment and in Korra's bed.

"But I wanted to come up here and get some fresh air," Korra continued. "Plus, I wanted to get a moment away from-"

"Korra! Asami!"

Korra pinched the bridge of her nose and Asami couldn't help but giggle. A very excited looking Ikki was running across deck towards them, followed by a much more sedate looking Jinora. She knew Korra had spent the morning on Air Temple Island helping the airbending family pack and travel to the docks, and once she had gotten onto the ship she looked ready to tear her hair out.

She didn't look particularly pleased about Ikki's sudden presence, either, but the young airbender didn't seem to pick up on it. "We get to spend the whole week on this ship, isn't that exciting?"

"Very exciting," Asami replied, giving Korra a minute to compose herself and raise her head from her hands. "How have you been enjoying it so far?"

"The sea is so pretty, I wish I could swim in it! But my mom said that would be bad." Wide eyes flickered out towards the ocean, then back up at Asami. "Asami! Can you tell us a story?"  
"A story?"

"Please?" Asami had no idea the young girl could make polar bear puppy eyes that big, but somehow she managed. Briefly, she wondered when she could get a moment alone on this ship.

And then she remembered that she was sharing a room with the young airbender, too. She wasn't exactly sure what had possessed her to say 'yes' to Korra's request to share a room with her and the two airbending girls, but it surely hadn't been Wan Shi, the spirit of knowledge.

Or any spirit remotely related to common sense, for that matter.

"Alright, Ikki," Asami began, slowly blowing air out from between her teeth. "I'll tell you a story..."

"A love story!"

Her knuckles on the ship's guard rail were turning white, but she managed not to roll her eyes. "...a _love_ story, if you promise not to interrupt, and-"

"-but..."

"-AND keep your questions to the _end_ of the story."

The younger airbender blew a stray strand of hair out of her face and crossed her arms across her chest, looking every bit like the seven year old girl Asami had met so long ago. "Fine."

Asami looked out over the ship and frowned, trying to think of an appropriate story to tell a twelve year old airbender. Why oh why didn't she read those silly romance scrolls her old school friends used to giggle over? There was only one love story that came to her mind, and it wasn't one she wanted to tell.

But, considering it was the only one she knew, she didn't have much of a choice.

"This story starts with a prince, who would one day rule over a large and prosperous kingdom. The prince was tall and handsome, and was well loved and respected by all his citizens. He was an excellent fighter, and he was traveling the world when he...stopped at a small island. There, he met a girl."

"Was she a princess?"

Asami shot the young airbender a sharp look, but answered her question anyway. "No. She was the...daughter of a noble. Well respected but...very lonely."

She studiously ignored Korra's knowing glance as she continued. "She helped the prince settle in when he arrived in her town, but didn't speak speak to him beyond to introduce herself and her family. So, it came as a surprise when, two weeks later, he showed up on her doorstep asking her to join him for tea.

"It would be beyond rude to decline, so she went with him. She expected him to talk about politics, about her family, but instead they spent the entire evening talking about themselves-their pasts, views, hobbies that the girl hadn't thought about in a long time. They talked well into the night, and had to be kicked out of the tea shop after it closed.

"When they left, the prince asked to see her again. She said she wasn't sure when she would be able to. She had duties to attend to, and couldn't spend all her time away from her work. The prince said he understood, and left.

"The next day, when she woke up, there was a package at her front door. Inside was a box of exquisite jasmine tea leaves. The note attached to it said 'Nobody should have to work without a good cup of tea.' The note was unsigned, but she knew who it was from.

"After a week of receiving a new tea every day, the girl decided to seek out the prince. She asked him why he was sending her such nice teas. The prince said that had enjoyed spending time with her, but could see her sorrow and loneliness, and that he just wanted to make her happy any way he could."

Iroh's voice rang in her ears. _It was selfish, perhaps, but I just couldn't get you out of my head. I haven't been able to speak so freely, so easily with someone in...a long time. I hope you don't mind._

Asami swallowed and pushed on. "This time, when he asked her to dinner, she accepted. From then on, they spent most of their evenings together. One evening, as they were both sitting outside her house watching the sunset, he leaned over and kissed her."

_His hand was warm and soft on the back of her neck as he murmured against her lips. 'You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that.' _ Why oh why could Asami still remember his words like it were yesterday?

She hadn't realized that she had let the silence stretch on until she heard an impatient Ikki exclaim, "And _then_ what happened?"

_Yeah, Asami, what did happen?_ Asami shut out the mocking voice in the back of her head to focus on the two airbending girls. "Then they...stayed together. And fell in love. And got married, and lived happily ever after."

"Oh I love a happy ending!" Ikki was rocking up and down on the balls of her feet, long braid bouncing in time. "Thanks, Asami!"

As Ikki spun around and shifted her focus to the view over the deck, Jinora turned and spoke for the first time, eyes piercing and bright. "Is that _really_ the end of the story?"

Asami needed to stop underestimating the younger airbender's intelligence. She was far too clever for her own good.

"Yes, yes it is." Asami swept a hand towards the stairs leading below the deck. "Why don't you guys go get ready for bed and say goodnight to your parents? Korra and I will join you in a bit."

"Aww, alright," Ikki crossed her arms again with another impressive pout, but thankfully did as requested. Jinora gave them both a knowing smile before following her sister down the stairs.

When Asami turned back towards the railing, Korra was leaning over the side with a thoughtful look on her face. "You know, you never told me exactly what happened when you guys broke up."

"I haven't?" Asami pursed her lips and frowned. She could had sworn she had gone through the details with Korra, even though they hadn't been roommates at the time. Though that entire period was still somewhat hazy in her memory.

Korra rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet, one hand absentmindedly picking at her arm band. "You were just so...sad . I didn't want to bring it up."

"There isn't really...much to tell. He needed to go home, so he did."

Korra's voice was soft. "He just left?"

He hadn't _just_ left. Of course he hadn't, Iroh was too _honorable_ for that. Korra knew this, but she wasn't calling the bluff. Was Asami really so fragile even after all this time that Korra, the champion of blunt-ness and thick-headedness, was tip-toeing around it?

"Well..." Asami sighed and turned to face the ocean, afraid of what Korra might be able to read in them if she met her gaze. She focused on the gentle rocking of the boat and the waves lapping at the hull of the ship, the gnawing pit in her stomach no longer from being seasick. "No, not exactly. His mother was becoming sick. You know that part." She saw Korra nod out of the corner of her eye. "He expected to have another few years in the United Forces before he needed to go home to help with the royal family. We hadn't really...thought that far ahead, though in the back of my mind I knew he would be Fire Lord someday.

"When he got that letter from his brother...we were together. I was eating dinner in his quarters and we were laughing and joking about the future. He kept talking of taking me with him back to the Fire Nation some day, where I could expand Future Industries and introduce Satomobiles to the Fire Islands. We were young, and stupid."

"Asami..."

Asami shook her head abruptly to cut off the younger girl's sympathy. If she didn't get the words out now, she never would.

"When he read that letter, I will never forget the look that came over his face. He had been laughing, but then suddenly he was like stone. He didn't even look up when he said that his mother's health was starting to go, and that she would be okay but his brother had asked him to return home. I asked him if it was what _he_ wanted and he said he had a duty. He couldn't dishonor his family by letting his own wishes supercede his loyalty to his family. He needed to leave immediately, and start working at home. When I asked him if he would ever come back, he said no."

The salt water began to sting in her eyes and Asami relished the pain, focused on it to distract from the sudden lump that was forming in her throat and the heavy feeling in her temples. "I got angry, then. I told him that it was _his_ life and that he could find a balance that didn't betray his family. That he could find a way to make it work, make _us_ work. He said that that was a selfish way of thinking, and that life didn't work that way."

She closed her eyes. She was sorely tempted to skip the next part of the story, to skip to the end. Maybe if she didn't give voice to the words that she had said back then, she could pretend they never happened. Pretend that he had laid the last nail in the coffin of their relationship, not her.

But she plowed on. "I was so mad...I wasn't thinking straight. I said that if that was the case, clearly he hadn't cared about me the way he said he did. I wanted to stay calm, not get upset or yell or let him know how much I was hurting. So I brushed him off instead. He tried to reach out to me...I think he finally realized then what was happening, but I didn't let him. I wished him a nice life, and I left."

"So...you broke up with him?" Korra's eyebrows were knitted together in confusion, and Asami couldn't blame her. She had certainly acted as if Iroh had been the one to tell her it was over. But that was only partially true.

Asami sighed, threading her fingers through each other and finally braving a glance over at her friend. "I think we kind of broke up with each other. I didn't offer to go with him, but he didn't ask, either." She looked down at her fingertips. "It still hurts, thinking about what I could have done differently."

"Even after four years?"

"Even after four years."

Korra was silent for a time, and Asami appreciated the chance to just watch the sun as it slowly descended below the horizon.

"I know it's...hard, dealing with that sort of regret," Korra's voice was low, but it still carried over the sounds of the waves. "But you know you'll always have us. Me, Mako, Bolin, the kids. Just...let us know if we can do anything, ok?"

Asami couldn't help but smile. "I know, Korra. Thank you."

The younger girl gave her a lopsided grin. "I'm going to go find the others downstairs. You should come to the boy's room, when you're ready. I'll need some backup in case Mako and Bolin start fighting about Pro-Bending tactics."

"I will."

As the sounds of Korra's boots against the ship's deck slowly faded away, Asami found herself looking out across the horizon again. It seemed surreal that, after all this time, she had finally told someone about what happened before Iroh left. She had thought that speaking those words aloud would hurt, would leave her feeling nothing but despair. And they had hurt, but she somehow felt stronger, better for it.

In one week, she was going to see Iroh again.

Asami took a deep breath and held it deep in her lungs, feeling the wet sea air push against her ribcage. She could do this. She could see Iroh. She could win this competition. She could put Future Industries on the map again and finally, _finally_ start getting on with her life.

And she needed to get on with her life. For her company, for her friends, but mostly for herself. For the past five years she had struggled to regain the confidence and comfort that had been so suddenly torn from her with a handful of sharp words from her father. Iroh had been a temporary bandage for that hurt, that pain, distracting her and soothing her with the type of love that she had never felt from anyone outsider her family. But, when that bandage had been ripped off, it had done more harm than good.

For six months, she had felt like she had been stumbling backwards into a time when all she could think about was Iroh, what they had been, what they could have been. She had been so good at putting him out of her mind for so long that the idea of seeing him again had knocked her off balance. But now, suddenly, she felt like she was moving forward. Not slipping back, not standing still, but fighting her way forward one shaky step at a time.

Asami stood facing the wind, remaining on deck until long after the sun had set below the horizon.

**A/N: Alternate chapter title: In Which Asami Isn't Subtle.**

**There was a pretty large time skip in this chapter, I hope that didn't confuse anyone!**

**And loads of backstory, but it was necessary, I swear.**

**Next chapter there will be a lot more action, and we will finally see the return of a certain firebending general :)**

**Hugs and kisses,**

**Korrallaries**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6: One Week Until the Race**

The Fire Nation was nothing like she'd imagined.

Logically, Asami knew that the capital city would have changed from the pictures her mother used to show her from old history scrolls. After all, Republic City was hardly recognizable now than from when she had been born.

But she was still taken aback by the amount of industry that seemed to weave itself seamlessly into the streets of the old city. The way Iroh had talked gave her the impression that the city was still relying mostly on ostrich-horses and carriages to get around, but there were automobiles everywhere. In the distance, she could see the faint puffs of steam that must be coming from a refinery.

Even with all the technology, however, she could still glimpse the old style and atmosphere of the imperial Fire Islands, from the brightly colored houses with curved roofs to the ornately decorated lanterns that lined each street. The smell of hot spices and rich tea seemed to seep out onto the streets, engulfing her senses and causing her to forget, just for a moment, exactly where she was.

And then Bolin had to speak.

"Excited for the festivities, 'Sami?" he asked, turning to face her without breaking his stride. He had his trunk perched carelessly on his shoulder, held in place by muscular arms. Professional probending had treated him well, especially when he finally hit a growth spurt a few years previous.

Asami shrugged and hitched her bag up further on her shoulder. The satchel carrying all her personal effects was stuffed full, but it was also small enough for her to carry comfortably. After years of running Future Industries, she had learned to rely on the practical more than the aesthetic. Plus, Korra had teased her mercilessly about her over packing problem.

Asami wouldn't tell her about the few odds and ends she had stored inside the plane. Just in case she _really_ needed them.

A few moments of odd silence reminded her that she still hadn't answered Bolin's question. "You mean the feast they're hosting for the contestants? I thought that wasn't for a few days yet, I was hoping to get some work done on the plane before then—"

"No, no, no," Bolin waved his free hand around impatiently to cut her off. "Not the feast, the ball! You know, the welcoming ball?"

"Ah. Right." The welcoming ball, where she would have to act politely and entertain boring conversation with chattering debutants. However could she forget. "I suppose I'll have to make an appearance, won't I."

Bolin gave her sideways look, mouth agape. She wasn't quite sure whether his outrage was mock or real. "Come on Asami, you used to love that stuff!"

She shrugged. "It's not like I don't like that stuff anymore. I've just been focusing on other things, and right now I have more pressing matters than having polite conversation with visiting debutants."

Bolin was still giving her an incredulous look, but she pointedly ignored it. It was true, she still _did_ enjoy the few times she got out to talk and socialize with people beyond her small group. After all, she was still the same Asami that she was years ago, she was just…busier.

And busier meant that she couldn't enjoy the same luxuries that she had grown up on. Balls and gatherings were mostly a thing of her past. A revolution and a tanking company and a very unpopular last name tended to put a damper on such things.

Asami stifled a sigh, remembering the promise she made to herself on the trip over. After this contest was over, she would need to start getting out more. Go with Bolin to more of his probending games and parties. Hit the town with Korra and Mako. Meet new people. All of her friends were growing up and moving on, it was time that she did too.

But first, she had a contest to win.

"I'll be on my best behavior, Bo, I promise. But I do need to check the plane when it's done being transported, so I likely won't stay long."

"But Asami, you have to stay! Who will pretend to be my girlfriend so I don't have to beat old ladies off with a stick?"

It took some effort, but Asami managed to hold a straight face when she replied. "Oh, Bolin. No girlfriend is going to save you from all the Fire Nation ladies wanting to spend some time with a _strapping_ young lad such as yourself."

Her companion stopped in his tracks, eyes bulging and mouth hanging open in disgust. As Asami kept walking towards the palace, she heard his shout following her.

"Ewwww, Asami! That was unnecessary. Totally unnecessary! Gross!"

* * *

If there was one word Asami would use to describe the Fire Nation ball, it would be dizzying.

She had been surprised that, after settling into what seemed like a very simple, practical chamber, that the ballroom was filled to the brim with traditional fire nation decor. If it were just a tad more decorated, she might even have had to call it gaudy.

Not like fire nation royalty would ever dare be called such a thing.

But still, she mused, the overall effect was very distracting. Sparkling chandeliers, shimmering drapes and dancing flames covering the walls, crystal china and champagne glasses clinking around the dance floor. Suits and gowns of red and white spinning through the crowd so fast that Asami was surprised nobody had collided. All in all, dizzying.

And the fact that she was dancing with an overly excited earthbender with an affinity for hurling objects large distances certainly didn't help the matter.

"Ouch! Asami!" Bolin staggered back when she accidentally trotted on his toes, hopping up and down with one knee pulled high up to his chest. "Stop gawking and pay attention, so you don't step on me!"

Asami scowled. "Please, I could try my best to stomp on you and you would hardly feel a thing." While he had grown several inches in the past few years, she had remained the same height and size she had been at eighteen. She was even wearing the same gown she had worn to her father's last high society ball. A long red number with a sweetheart neck, it perhaps showed a bit too much skin for a formal event in the Fire Nation, but that couldn't really be helped. When she had purchased this dress, she had been trying to impress Mako. And she hadn't had the time to buy a new one.

If Mako had recognized the dress, he hadn't said anything when she had met him and Korra earlier at the reception. Asami had the distinct impression that this had nothing to do with his lack of perception and memory (he was a police officer, after all), and everything to do with the fact that his eyes were practically glued to the deceptively simple, form fitting blue dress his girlfriend was wearing.

They were also on the dance floor now, Korra trying to look serious and professional while Mako twirled her in a slow spin, and Asami felt the edges of her lips tugging up in a smile. Someday soon, they were going to move in for real and she would have to find a new roommate.

The thought was distinctly sobering.

By the time Bolin finished hopping around with his exaggerated injury, the band was finishing the song with a slow Tsunji Horn solo. As they walked off the dance floor, Asami turned around just in time to see the crowd thin out and part to reveal a familiar handsome man dressed in traditional Fire Nation royal finery, dancing with a younger woman wearing a low cut dress in earthy green hues.

Iroh.

Judging by the way his dance partner was gazing up at him with big, doe eyes, he was every bit the same charming gentleman that he had been four years ago. His hair had grown a tad longer—Asami had never seen him need to shake it out of his eyes before. But his eyes were still a warm, glowing amber and his smile held the same boyish charm that she remembered from all those years ago.

And he had gotten even _more_ handsome in the meantime. Bastard.

As if he could feel her eyes on him, the Fire Prince gracefully stepped to the right and swept his dance partner along, lifting his gaze to meet hers. Asami could see the lines of his jaw stiffen, though he finished the dance with practiced skill. His partner pouted when he led her off the dance floor, but his smile never faltered.

And then he turned to Asami.

_Uh oh. Time to go._

Asami turned away and tightened her grip on Bolin's arm, giving him what she hoped was a bright, careless smile. "Hey, Bo! I need to go finish up some work on the plane, will you walk me out?"

Bolin opened his mouth to respond, but his eyes slid up over Asami's head and focused on something behind her. Or some_one_ behind her. Blast it all.

"Sorry, Asami, I have to go…do that thing…that I have to do…" His eyes darted back and forth before they landed on a figure in red, taping her shoe impatiently on the side of the dance floor. "Like dance with older fire nation women, just like you said!" He leaned over and wiggled his fingers in an exaggerated wave, soliciting a giggle from the woman. Asami scowled and held tight to his arm, but he easily broke out of her grip and skipped away.

"See you later!"

Asami crossed her arms across her chest, not caring at all that she looked like a petulant two year old. "Traitor."

"Miss Sato. Would you like to dance?"

Uncrossing her arms, Asami looked up at the very person she was hoping to avoid. His jacket was even more ornate up close, the kind of garment she knew that he had once been loath to wear. His hand was stretched out in invitation, and he still had his signature smile plastered on his face, but under her silent glare it seemed to falter.

The door was right there. Years of debutant training told her that it was rude to run away from the crown prince of the Fire Nation, but she was sorely tempted.

Instead, she forced a smile and placed her hand delicately in Iroh's outstretched one. "Very well, Fire Prince."

It was impossible to ignore the heat that she felt between their clasped hands as he led her back out onto the ballroom floor. She could practically hear her own heartbeat, and wondered if Iroh could too. To her knowledge, only practiced earthbenders could attempt echo location, but that didn't help her nerves.

The band broke out into a slower waltz, dashing her hopes for a fast, quick song that would make it difficult to talk. Dear spirits, could nothing go her way tonight?

Iroh spun her slowly to face him, putting a gentle hand on her back. Asami rested her hand on his shoulder, trying to focus on how itchy the fabric was instead of the way his eyes seemed to be searching her face.

"You look lovely." His low, serious tone had once made butterflies dance in her stomach. Now, she just felt sick.

"Thank you. You look very…distinguished." Internally, she winced. Sure, it had been years since she had attended one of these events, but that didn't mean that she had to act a bumbling fool. She was Asami Sato after all.

The thought calmed her nerves enough that she was able to hold onto what she hoped was a sincere looking smile when he tried to pull her into a conversation.

"Did you have a good trip over?"

"Yes, thank you. The barge was very accommodating, and I spent the week with the Avatar and her family."

"Ah, I see. Is Councilman Tenzin doing well?"

"Very well. He will be pleased to speak with you, I imagine."

"And are you looking forward to the race?"

If she held this smile for much longer, she had the distinct impression her face would crack. "Very much, yes. It is a wonderful opportunity for Future Industries."

Iroh frowned, a distinctly un-princelike expression, and Asami wondered what she had said to upset him so. But as soon as she saw it, the displeased expression was gone and he was polite Prince Iroh once again.

"How is…the weather, back in Republic City?"

_Oh Iroh. Who's the bumbling fool now?_

Asami let her gaze turn cool. "It hasn't changed much, since you left. You would know that, if you ever came to visit."

Iroh's jaw set and she caught a flash of…something in his eyes. Anger? Regret? She knew she shouldn't goad him, but this was the man who had up and left her without so much as a goodbye after one letter from home.

"You know I cannot leave on a whim, I have a duty to the people here. To my family."

"Ah, yes. And your loyalty to your family is so absolute that you don't have room for anyone else."

Yes, there was definitely anger in his gaze now. "You do not understand. I have an honor-bound duty to serve my family and my nation."

Asami kept her gaze steady. "I understand perfectly. I have an honor-bound duty to serve my employees, to serve those loyal to me too. But such priorities can be balanced with a loyalty to one's friends." If it was a bit hypocritical of her to chastise him when she spent far too much time at work and far too little her friends, her surrogate family, she didn't let herself dwell on it.

"Your priorities aren't an ocean away."

He had a point, but she wasn't ready to concede yet. "You didn't even try."

His voice grew dangerously strained, as if he was only just keeping his anger in check. "What, exactly, did you want me to try?"

Their exchange had grown loud enough for couples close by to eye them with curiosity, but neither of them broke the glare. Asami wasn't sure what she had wanted him to try—keeping their relationship long distance? Visiting when he could? Perhaps it wasn't so much what he had done but the way he had done it that had caused so much pain.

"I wanted you not write me off. Like I was some passing fancy."

He leaned in closer towards her, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "Is that what you think?"

Asami thrust out her chin to keep his gaze. She wasn't going to cower before him, Fire Prince or no. "That is what I know. You left without so much as a backwards glance."

Moments passed in silence, and she saw the muscles in Iroh's neck work as he attempted a reply. But he had none, no words to soothe her hurt or her anger. She knew he wouldn't, but the confirmation that she had meant so little to him in comparison to his title, his job, still stung.

"Why did you cut your hair?"

"What?" The sharp turn in conversation caught her off guard, and she nearly stumbled over her steps as the waltz played on. Only Iroh's arm kept her upright.

His jaw stiff, Iroh repeated the question. "Why did you cut your hair?"

Asami reached up towards the back of her head self consciously. As usual, she had combed out and straightened her hair before the ball, before pulling it into a low knot at the back of her neck. It was a professional look, but also very unlike the long curls that she used to have when Iroh had seen her last.

"It was always getting in the way. It seemed practical, at the time."

It was a bit silly, looking back on it, but it was an easy way to distinguish between the past and the present. The past had held balls and a doting father and a boyfriend who loved her. The present held bills and a struggling company and long nights spent in the warehouse. The more she separated the two, the better.

She hadn't had a chance to cut it in the past several months when she was working on the air ship, so it was slowly reaching towards her waist. The tight bun she wore masked the length, but she would need to cut it soon before it got out of hand

"I don't like it."

Apparently the Fire Prince was abandoning any attempt at decorum. She briefly wondered if his family managed to grate on his nerves this much, or if she was the only one that managed to frustrate him enough to break his calm exterior.

"You don't have to like it. You will only need to bear with it for another week."

Iroh's eyes hardened at that, and Asami stepped away before he could give another snappy reply. The band was finishing up the waltz, and people spilling off of the floor were giving them a wide berth. So much for not causing a scene.

"Thank you for the dance, Fire Prince." Asami sunk into a low curtsy. At least some propriety could be salvaged from this situation. "I look forward to seeing you at the contestant's dinner."

He reached towards her, an unreadable look on his face. "Asami…"

Hearing her name on his lips felt like a dagger was turning in her heart. She needed to go. Now.

Ignoring his pleading look and the curious gazes of all their onlookers, she turned towards the door and fled.

* * *

**A/N: I hope that chapter put some of your fears to rest. But in case you aren't certain and you don't mind me spoiling it: Iroh is not engaged. There are enough conflicts keeping them apart without adding another woman into the mix.**

**Not that those stories aren't fun. They are. But I wanted to write this as a more realistic story—a story of two kind but stubborn individuals navigating their way through a politically charged and fast changing world.**

**And, mostly, I wanted to write a story about Asami. About her struggles and conflicts and hopes and dreams. About her and Iroh, but also just about her. Her meeting Iroh again is mostly chance, but her being at this contest is due to her own force of will.**

**Not that there won't be a lot of Iroh in the upcoming chapters. There will. I just hope you don't mind me writing it as less of a fairy tale and more of what I hope is a realistic love story.**

**Whew.**

**Secondly, I apologize (again, I know) about the super huge delay. This time it was a bit more out of my control; I've still been writing each day, but life really delivered me a nice kick in the teeth. I've been taking a bit of time to sort it all out.**

**Let's just say I'm now a bit more familiar with Asami's heartbreak.**

**Now, enough of these long rambling author's notes and onto the rest of the story! Next chapter is coming soon. In the meantime, please review like the wonderfully awesome people you are.**

**Hugs and kisses,**

**Korrallaries**


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